The Arkham Diaries
by ArSommers
Summary: ["Her Dreams, His Reality" Book 3] Harley comes face to face with her past when she visits her former office at Arkham.
1. Chapter 1

_March 3_ _rd_ _\- Today, I conducted my first session with the man who calls himself the "Joker"._

Harley smiled as she took another sip of her espresso. She remembered that interview well. Before the session started she'd been unbelievably nervous, seeing as how the Joker was the infamous king of crime and all. But with each passing session Mr. J suppressed her fears, steering the tone of the conversation from that of a doctor/patient relationship to one of mutual friendship. Of course, the old Harley hadn't initially seen it that way, which made re-reading the older entries dull. But if Harley was going to have any more surprise encounters with Harleen, she figured it'd be best to brush up on her past…especially now that she, the Joker, and his gang were about to break into Arkham.

Forcing herself through the first few months of boring analytical entries, Harley finally got to the juicy personal stuff:

 _It's like he sees me for who I really am, not as a doctor but as a woman with blossoming potential. Though I should be the one trying to rationalize the outside world to him (a patient), I can't help but think he's rationalizing his world to me. And despite my best interests, I find myself wanting to explore this world the Joker has created._

"Hun, little did you know you wouldn't just _explore_ his world," Harley said aloud. "You'd get totally _lost_ in it,"

There was a knock on her bedroom door. Setting the bound journal aside, Harley answered, "Yes?"

The Joker opened the door a crack, sticking his head partway into the room. "Hey sweet cheeks,"

Harley giggled. Mr. J could be so playful sometimes. "Is it time to go?"

Sauntering into the room, the Joker swept Harley off her chair and into his arms. "Yes," he said, his eyes shining brightly. "Let's give the people of Arkham a nice little show,"


	2. Chapter 2

Harley wasn't integral in the plot to break Dr. Jonathan Crane out of Arkham, but she was more than happy to accompany the Joker. The plan appeared flawless, and the gang broke into the asylum without any unforeseen setbacks. It was at this point in the mission, however, where Harley decided to enact a plan of her own.

"Hey puddin'," she said as she tugged on his sleeve. "I'm going to make a quick detour. Meet you at wing C in a few?"

The Joker cocked his head and gave Harley a funny look. She usually clung to his side like a shadow on outings such as these. "Sure," he said after a moment, giving her one final look before continuing on his way.

Now alone, Harley spun around to face the dark corridors before her. There was no need for a map, as she remembered Arkham's layout well. Like any medical facility, one could easily get lost in the maze of hallways, each turn appearing the same as the last. But Harley pressed forward with confidence, her feet guiding her down memory lane until she stopped at the former office of Dr. Harleen Quinzel. Grasping the handle, she tugged to find the door locked.

"Figures," Harley sighed, then brought up her bat and swung full force at the surrounding glass. When there was enough room for her to safely stick her arm through the open space, she unlocked the door and let herself in.

Harley was instantaneously displeased. The furniture had been rearranged, awards dating back to the eighties hung on each wall, and the place sufficiently lacked color of any kind. In short, it was the stereotypical shrink's office.

"Well, Doctor…" Harley picked up the nametag on the desk, "…Brown. Maybe it's time you redecorated,"

She was about to smash the smug little nametag to pieces when a familiar voice from behind said, "Or maybe this good man just doesn't have as eccentric a taste as you,"

Harley's lips twisted into a smile as she turned around. "I was hoping you'd show up," Sure enough, Harleen Quinzel stood at the other end of the room, her eyes filled with contempt as they bored into Harley.

"Welcome back," Harley said as she took a seat on top of Dr. Brown's desk. "Long time no see,"

"I figured a few months was ample time to observe your progress," the doctor said.

Harley rolled her eyes. "Don't give me that. I know you're just a figment of my imagination. This office," Harley outstretched her hands, "Was just the trigger I needed to bring you out,"

"Perhaps," Harleen took a seat in a nearby chair. "So, is there something in particular you wish to discuss?"

Harley tapped her heels against the back of the desk. She had many questions, but a limited time to ask. Best to start with the most important ones first and work her way from there.

"Why now?" Harley asked. "Why, after years of absence, are you suddenly appearing? Are you, like, the Ghost of Christmas Past without the Christmas part or something?"

"I don't have _all_ the answers," Harleen said. "I'm only as useful as your subconscious allows," Harley began to slouch with disappointment when the doctor added, "But I do have a theory,"

The queen of Gotham leaned forward. "I'm all ears,"

"Whatever alternative side the Joker brought out in you is beginning to falter," Harleen said. "You can never erase a humble beginning, no matter how many vats of chemicals you jump in to. Because deep beneath all these layers of insanity, the spark of sanity will always remain,"

Harley wouldn't admit it aloud, but Harleen's response touched upon a concept she'd always feared: that perhaps she wasn't good enough for Mr. J, and that she truly wasn't like him. Of course, Harley had been reborn that night in the chemical factory, but her transformation maybe only be a cast-iron mold. Under dire circumstances, even iron could be melted.

The two women turned towards the door when a sudden round of gunfire erupted.

"What happened to you?" Harleen asked. "Did you forget that there was once a time you'd run towards violence to rescue others?"

Harley looked down at her boots. It was much easier to look at a pair of designer shoes than the shame reflected in Harleen's eyes. Her _own_ eyes. "It's just background noise," Harley mumbled. "Nothing more,"

"Is that what you tell yourself," Harleen asked, "Alone at night when the Joker is halfway around the Gotham doing who knows what?"

Harley squeezed her eyes shut and placed her fingertips on her temples. "Stop it," she said through gritted teeth. She half expected the image of Harleen in her white coat to appear behind her eyelids, but instead the doctor's voice whispered uncomfortably close to her ear.

"It doesn't have to be this way," Harleen said. "It's not too late to walk away from him,"

"I can't," Harley said through gritted teeth. "I just can't,"

"You can't what?" a low voice asked.

Harley opened her eyes to find the Joker standing in the doorway.


	3. Chapter 3

"Puddin'!" Harley rushed to the Joker with a little more enthusiasm than she'd intended. "The voices were telling me to…" Harley suddenly stopped short. She wasn't sure how the Joker would react when he learned Harleen was creeping back into her life. Of course, Harley had openly invited her former personality this time. But after this latest experience, Harley decided she would never welcome the old doctor again.

The Joker clasped his hands together with glee. "Oh the voices," he marveled. "Sometimes they have the best ideas,"

 _Not if you knew what they were saying,_ Harley thought.

The Joker looked around the office. "This is where we first met," he commented as he walked over to the table where Harleen sat moments before. Running his pale fingers along the surface, the Joker added "At this very table,"

"I remember. You had that cute white straight jacket on,"

"And you that white doctor's coat," The moonlight that poured through the window reflected on the Joker's silver grin as he opened his arms invitingly. "Come here,"

Harley obliged, allowing the Joker's embrace to engulf her senses as she wrapped her arms around him. He was her everything and always would be, no matter what Harleen said.

 _That woman was pathetic,_ Harley thought as she tried to calm her nerves. _Playing the good guy only got her so far. But Mr. J… he brings out the best in me, makes me so much more._

Noticing how tense Harley's muscles were in their embrace, the Joker lifted a tattooed hand and placed it over her mouth. "There," he purred. "Now you have a smile on your face,"

Harley smiled despite herself. When she first saw the mouth tattoo on the Joker's hand, she thought it was the most ridiculous thing she'd ever beheld. Of course, that was years ago. Since then she'd come to see that nothing about the Joker was random, as Harleen had once theorized in her Arkham journals once upon a time. Through the eyes of Harley, every crazy little thing he did served a purpose.

Yes, after all this time Harley knew the Joker inside and out. So why, she wondered, was this the first time in their relationship that she felt so utterly alone?

[To be continued in "A Past Etched in Stone"...]


End file.
